int to than other races
in the way of past achievements. He said that after all it was the
future that was of vital concern and not the past, and that the future
was theirs to a peculiar degree because they were a young race. And to
illustrate their situation he told of meeting old Aunt Caroline one
evening striding along with a basket on her head. He said, "Where are
you going, Aunt Caroline?" And she replied: "Lor' bless yer, Mister
Washin'ton, I dun bin where I's er goin'." "And so," he concluded,
"some of the races of the earth have dun bin where dey was er goin'!"
but fortunately the Negro race was not among them.

In making the point that, in spite of race prejudice, the handicaps to
which his people were subjected in the South were after all
superficial and did not interfere with their chance to work and earn a
living, he told the experience of an old Negro who was accompanying
him on one of his Southern educational tours. At a certain city they
were obliged to wait several hours between trains, so this old man
took advantage of the opportunity to stroll about and see the sights
of the place. After a while he pulled out his watch and found he had
barely time to get back to the station before the train was due to
leave. Accordingly he rushed to a hack stand and called out to the
first driver he came to, who happened to be a white man: "Hurry up an'
take me to the station, I's gotta get the 4:32 train!" To which the
white hack driver replied: "I ain't never drove a nigger in my hack
yit an' I ain't goin' ter begin now. You can git a nigger driver ter
take ye down!"

To this the old colored man replied with perfect good nature: "All
right, my frien', we won't have no misunderstanding or trouble; I'll
tell you how we'll settle it: you jest hop in on der back seat an' do
der ridin' and I'll set in front an' do der drivin'." In this way they
reached the station amicably and the old man caught his train. Like
this old Negro, Mr. Washington always devoted his energies to catching
the train, and it made little difference to him whether he sat on the
front or the back seat.

A few months later, to the five thousand people of his own race in the
Harlem Casino in New York City, he described their daily lives, their
problems, perplexities, and temptations in terms as homely, as
picturesque, and as vivid as he used in talking to the Georgia
farmers. He urged them, just as he did the farmers, to stop moving
about and to set